


Home

by panlesters



Series: Dead of Night [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Prison, it's just a short and sweet fic abt love, poem based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 00:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13513290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panlesters/pseuds/panlesters
Summary: the words complicate things / but all i know / is that she smells like heaven / and she feels like home.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> ok so about a month ago i bought a poetry anthology called Dead of Night by Chris McGeown, and as i was reading i started to see things i could write about. so this is going to be the first of many fics based on poems from this anthology. enjoy!

Stepping out of the prison block for the first time in eight weeks is a surreal experience. Jake can see Amy waiting in the lobby for him, trying her best to hold off a grin, but with every step towards her that Jake takes, her straight face falters, her eyes begin to fill with tears. The walk, which is only really about 30 seconds, feels like an age and Jake can’t wait, he _can’t wait_ to hug Amy, and hold her for as long as he damn likes, with no guard telling them they need to cut it out and sit apart, or that they need to stop touching. Amy is there, in front of him, almost in arms’ reach, and he’s going to be free.

Amy grabs hold of him like a lifeline.

“Jake,” she whispers through a sob. She has nothing else to say. Everything came as a shock, it was so fast and she still can’t believe what’s happening but Jake is _here_ , he’s in her arms and she’s crying and he’s crying and no one is telling them to break it up, no one is stopping them. She takes a deep breath and buries her face in his shoulder, squeezing him as tight as she can as if he’ll disappear or be torn away again if she doesn’t. Amy inhales his scent, which isn’t the same as it usually is. He doesn’t smell like his usual aftershave, he doesn’t smell like her apartment, and he doesn’t smell like Jake. Prison has changed him in more ways than this, but Amy doesn’t falter.

“Ames, you did it,” Jake chokes out as his hand finds its way into her hair, pulling her as close to him as he can. They’ve been restricted to 10 second hugs for too long and Jake has missed being able to hold her close and smell the traces of her fruit-scented shower gel and hear her breathing and _feel her damn heart beat against his own_. They’re together again and nothing can break them apart. Jake always wondered what freedom felt like, _true_ freedom, and this is it. He can hold the love of his life against him forever and no one can tell them no.

Jake always struggled to define the feeling of home when he was younger. After his dad left and he was left with just his mom, things changed. The kids at school had it differently. They had two parents, and a loving household, and togetherness in a way that the Peraltas had never had. It never felt like home to Jake when all his friends went home to a complete family. Jake loved his mom and he still does, but he could never really define home.

The familiarity of Amy’s scent hits him like a brick. In the 10 second hugs they would drag out in the visiting hours, amongst the restrictions and the smell that lingered around the prison constantly, Jake had missed it. But it’s there now. He can smell _her_. She hasn’t changed the shampoo she’s used since they started dating, or her deodorant, and he can even smell the air freshener from their house, their _home_ , on her, the ones she insisted on getting when she realised this meant she was going to be living with a man again. Everything is the same and Jake realises that this is what home feels like. Home is in her arms, with her hand in his hair and her steady breaths on his neck. When they pull away he stares into her eyes, her beautiful eyes that are full of tears and happiness, a look he hasn’t seen for too long. He doesn’t know that before long those eyes will lock with his as she accepts his marriage proposal, and further down the line when they promise themselves to each other in marriage.

Jake doesn’t struggle to define home in the way he did as a kid, growing up. Home is Amy Santiago. Home is the warmth in the bed beside him as he wakes up the next morning. Home is the spontaneous kisses they give each other throughout the next day, like they’re children starting a new relationship all over again. Home is her arms wrapped around him when he’s let a suspect go because they said they weren’t guilty. Home is her.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always greatly appreciated! come scream with me about jake and amy on my tumblr @hearteyes-peralta


End file.
